George ground his teeth together as he watched Dr. Regger through the window, walking down the street below. As a graduate student, he had traveled across the world to study Mesoamerican archaeology in Munich with the man, and had cursed the decision to do so nearly every day since. He hadn’t realized that behind the brilliant scholarly articles lay the mind of a man who was so blinded by delusions of ancient power and grandeur, that he barely had time for his student who had by association been tarred with the same brush as himself.

He closed the curtain in disgust. It was no matter. He had within his grasp the one item that would allow his revenge against the older man. For George had been paying very close attention to what Dr. Regger had been saying for all those years. He had even come to believe it.

The power would be his. He would become the Aztec god’s avatar.

What he didn’t know was that on the shore of a small island in Indonesia, one woman was now holding the only power able to stop him.